The road less travelled...

Title: Who’s Sexy?
Author: katherine_b
Rating: NC-17
Summary: It turns out Donna is pretty darned attracted to the Doctor after all.
Word Count: approx 600
Characters: The Doctor and Donna
A/N: Written for wendymr who gave me such a gorgeous Advent fic and then put ideas into my head as a result of it. This is seriously the PWP-iest thing ever wrote!

“We did it again,” Donna remarks as she reclines against the pile of pillows at the head of the large bed.

“We did,” agrees the Doctor, smirking as he tucks his hands behind his head. “Not that I heard you complaining too hard.”

“Between all your grunting and groaning, I’m surprised you could hear anything,” she teases.

“Time Lord, Donna,” he reminds her. “Better at everything than a mere human.”

“Modest, too,” she snaps, smacking him lightly on the arm.

He grabs her hand and kisses her palm, then her wrist, working his way down to her elbow and then moving across to her breasts.

“Yeah, you might be a Time Lord, but you’re still a bloke,” Donna snorts, running her hands over his hair.

The Doctor makes an enquiring sound and glances up at her curiously.

“It’s still all about the tits, isn’t it?” she tells him, and he chuckles, which prompts a pleasant buzz against her skin.

“Not only,” he retorts, momentarily detaching himself from them. “But they are fantastic, Donna – and I’ve seen a few in my lifetime, so I’ve got a lot to compare them to.”

“Yes, because you jump into bed with every female who travels in your blue box,” she shoots back, before twirling her tongue around his bare nipple.

“Not – mmm! – all,” he contradicts her. “Not even most of them, a – ohh! – actually. Only a select few. Ahh! Donna!”

She bats her eyelashes at him, her voice innocent. “Yes, Doctor?”

He growls something incoherent and pulls her against him, sliding into her and rolling onto his back so that she straddles him before thrusting into her over and over. She presses her hands against his chest to keep herself from falling onto him, her back arched and her much-admired breasts bouncing above him. He reaches up and cups them, one in each hand, his eyes closing in apparent ecstasy, as he moves below her in sharp, confident thrusts.

Time and the outside world melt away until Donna collapses on to the Doctor, no longer able to hold herself up. His arms wrap around her as she recovers her breath, and she can hear his hearts racing in her ear as her head comes to rest on his chest.

“My flame-haired beauty,” he purrs, stroking his fingers through her red locks.

“You’re bloody obsessed with my hair, aren’t you,” she comments. “If the Universe has any sort of a sense of humour, you’ll never end up ginger in any of your bodies.”

“Evil wench,” retorts the Doctor mildly, before stretching his neck down so that he can press a kiss to the top of her head.

“Oh, is that what sex does to you?” Donna teases. “No snarky comeback?”

“Well,” he smirks, “that’s something we could practice and find out – in the interests of science, of course.”

“Could be fun, but,” she glances at her watch, “I should go,” she finishes rather regretfully.

“What’s your rush?” he demands, lightly brushing his fingertips over her bare back in a way that makes the hairs on her arms rise. “Time machine, remember? We can do this as long as we like.”

Donna glances at the pile of clothing in the corner, with her bra on top and the Doctor’s leather jacket at the very bottom. She thinks about the brown-suited man waiting for her in his TARDIS and decides that, since he most likely remembers this happening, she might as well yield to the inevitable.

“Oh, go on then,” she says, and pulls the long, lanky bloke with the Northern accent into a passionate kiss.